


Blinded By The Bloodstains

by Salmon_Pink



Category: American Horror Story: Hotel
Genre: Bloodplay, Community: femslash_kink, Community: kink_bingo, F/F, Femslash February, Femslash Friday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-23 10:03:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6113086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salmon_Pink/pseuds/Salmon_Pink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiff sheets and sticky skin and the sweetness of sin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blinded By The Bloodstains

**Author's Note:**

> Character spoilers for _American Horror Story: Hotel_. Contains canon-typical horror imagery/descriptions of death. Set before _American Horror Story: Hotel_. Written for [Kink Bingo](kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org), prompt "guro", for [Femslash February](https://www.tumblr.com/tagged/femslash-february), for [Femslash Friday](https://www.tumblr.com/tagged/femslash-friday), and for [The Femslash Kink Meme](https://femslash-kink.dreamwidth.org), [prompt](http://femslash-kink.dreamwidth.org/15813.html?thread=2144453#cmt2144453) "Countess/Ramona, bloodplay".

It’s not the first corpse they’ve fucked beside. It won’t be the last. 

The Countess, Elizabeth, she’s got Ramona on her back, hands in her hair. Grinding back against Ramona’s thigh, a scarlet smile on her face.

The broken rag-doll that was once a girl is flopped against the mattress, her mouth slack, _lifeless_. She was a pretty thing, no hips but long legs. She might have been a model, if she’d had better luck. Or she might have wound up in a decidedly seedier hotel, a camera rolling, porn’s latest flavour of the day. LA is a cruel-ass town.

But now she’s just a set of glassy eyes, just the blood on Ramona’s skin.

Ramona drags Elizabeth down, gets her lips against that pale throat. Following blood across Elizabeth’s collarbone with her tongue, sticky-sweet, salt of the flesh beneath acting as the perfect chaser. 

“One day you’re gonna run out of starry-eyed idiots to bring home,” she murmurs, teasing.

Elizabeth rolls her shoulders in something too graceful to count as a shrug. “This is a decade of opulence, of _decadence_ ,” she replies, arching her back and pressing her chest forward when Ramona cups her breasts through her basque. “They’ll _never_ stop coming, not with everything they’re promised by the silver screen.”

Ramona laughs at that, squeezes her hands hard enough to make Elizabeth moan. “And you’ll catch them all?”

Elizabeth fucks her hips down harder; she’s so wet against Ramona’s thigh. “They’re all blinded by the tinsel, and I’m good at moving in shadows.” 

“I see how good you move,” Ramona purrs, and Elizabeth smiles, undulates above her, a rippling wave of muscle and blood-soaked lace. There’s red in her hair, the platinum-blonde at her hairline stained pink, and the sheets reek with it, with sex and blood. That scent of rot and copper and something _flesh_ would once upon a time have made Ramona gag, but now it makes her itch and crave and need.

Now it makes her _hungry_.

Elizabeth’s fingers are tacky with drying blood when she moves them between Ramona’s legs. Pushing inside of her, three skilled fingers; Elizabeth’s nails are too long, but that just makes it _better_. That light and teasing scrape along her insides, making her want to press her thighs together and spread them wider at the same time.

Ramona doesn’t know if it’s the virus that makes her like it so nasty, or if it’s just _Elizabeth_.

She fucks Ramona slow, in that way that says she means to do this for _hours_. Until the sheets are crisp and stiff with dried blood, until the girl’s blood runs cold as it dribbles down from the gash across her throat. Until Ramona’s pussy is sore, until she loses her voice, until she doesn’t think she can come again, even though she knows Elizabeth will wring one last wave of pleasure from her just to show she _can_.

It’s love, twisted and dark and more earnest than anything Ramona’s ever had in her entire life. More vital than blood, and just as delicious - her and Elizabeth and an eternity of corpses, forevermore.


End file.
